


Glass

by doritoFace1q



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Crackfic?, Don't question it, Gen, Headcanon, Why Did I Write This?, i don't even know at this point, levi has a glass eye, will probably delete later
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-28
Updated: 2019-05-28
Packaged: 2020-03-20 18:17:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18997960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doritoFace1q/pseuds/doritoFace1q
Summary: “Captain?” Armin asked tentatively.Levi glanced at him from the corner of his eye, head perched in his hand. “What?” he asked.“Uh,” Armin cleared his throat, glancing at Jean, who made a gesture towards his own left eye.Levi rolled his eye – the one he had remaining, anyways – and lifted a hand, touching his eyelid gently. He wrinkled his nose at the feeling of emptiness beneath it, at the uncomfortable, grinding sensation of the little shards of glass he hadn’t been able to get out of the empty socket.





	Glass

**Author's Note:**

> Written on a whim for a headcanon that I've had for longer than the doctor believes to be healthy.

He feels their eyes on him throughout the entire day – sees them shooting him glances out of the corner of his eye, gaping at the left side of his face, sees the questions in their eyes, practically hearing their choruses of ‘Captain!’ and ‘Yo, what the fuck?’.

            Granted, that’s a fair reaction.

            It’s not until they’re in the abandoned watchtower, sitting around the table, waiting for Hange and Moblit, until one of them speaks up.

            “Captain?” Armin asked tentatively.

            Levi glanced at him from the corner of his eye, head perched in his hand. “What?” he asked.

            “Uh,” Armin cleared his throat, glancing at Jean, who made a gesture towards his own left eye.

            Levi rolled his eye – the one he had remaining, anyways – and lifted a hand, touching his eyelid gently. He wrinkled his nose at the feeling of emptiness beneath it, at the uncomfortable, grinding sensation of the little shards of glass he hadn’t been able to get out of the empty socket.

            “Oh, yeah,” he muttered. “That.”

            “It didn’t happen earlier, did it?” Sasha asked, frowning.

            “Nah,” Levi muttered, lowering his hand. “Old injury. Underground,” he added, and a few looks of confusion were cleared. Jean nodded stiffly and Connie made a little ‘oh’ noise.

            “So the other one was a glass eye?” Mikasa asked.

            Levi shrugged. “Easier than an eyepatch.” She nodded.

            “Is there still glass in it, Captain?” Jean asked. “You should probably clean it out.”

            “I know how to take care of my fucking socket,” Levi grumbled, and then, softer, “And, as much as I appreciate the offer, I don’t really need somebody poking around inside my head right now. Hange can take care of it later.”

            At that moment, as if summoned by his words, there was the sounds of horse hooves outside. Everybody tensed, a few people reaching for swords that weren’t there, but they relaxed as Hange burst through the door.

            They groaned at the sight of Levi, Moblit walking into the room at a more leisurely pace. “Oh, come on!” they whined. “You broke it!”

            “It’s not like I meant to,” he grumbled, standing up and holding his hand out. “Do you have my shit, or what?”

            “Do you know how long that took me to make?”

            “Don’t care. Shit?”

            Hange stuck their tongue out at him, reaching into their bag, and, after a few moments of fumbling, pulling out a plain black eyepatch. “I’ll have you know that I’m not making any more eyes for you anymore!” they declared as the squad watched on, slack-jawed, and Moblit stood by, looking all too used to the squabbling.

            “Yeah, whatever,” Levi snorted as he tied the patch securely over the damaged eye. “I know you have a stash of spares.”

            “Rude! You know, you always –” The door slammed shut, the two veterans walking down the stairs towards the cells, arguing slightly muffled, but still pronounced.

            “So, uh,” Jean said after a brief moment of awkward silence. “Murder, amirite?”

**Author's Note:**

> What was this


End file.
